Rossky's words echoed in his mind. "Not if the information is the business of this Center, sir." In the space of just a few hours, the death of an enemy agent and information about the Gulfstream had been kept from him. The Center was one of the most powerful reconnaissance bases in the world: Orlov would not permit Rossky and Dogin to turn it into their own private resource, though he would not do anything just yet. He had learned from his days in space that it was most important to keep his head cool when his seat was heating up to five thousand degrees Fahrenheit-- and the pair had not yet come close to raising the temperature that high.

In any case, he still had a facility to run, and neither the Colonel nor a megalomaniac was going to keep him from doing his job.

Orlov sidled into the cramped radio room, which was even thicker with smoke than before. Zilash's narrow face was angled upward, his eyes staring at nothing in particular as he listened on his headset. He removed them after a moment and looked at Orlov.

"Sir," he said around his cigarette, "we've been following two series of coded communications, and we assume they're connected. The first is from Washington to an aircraft over the Atlantic, and the second is to Helsinki." He took two quick puffs, then stubbed the cigarette in an ashtray. "We had the satellite team take a look at the aircraft: it's unmarked, though they make it out to be a C-141B StarLifter."

"Big troop carrier," Orlov said thoughtfully, "a modified version of the C-141A. I know the plane well."

"I thought you might." Zilash smiled, then lit a fresh cigarette. "The StarLifter is on a course toward Helsinki. We listened to communications between the pilot and the tower: he'll be arriving around eleven P.M., local time."

Orlov looked at his watch. "That's less than an hour from now. Any idea who's on board?"

Zilash shook his head. "We tried to listen in on the cockpit with the Svetlana in the North Atlantic, but the captain says there's an electronic field in the plane."

"So it's definitely intelligence," Orlov said, though he wasn't surprised. He thought back to the British operative who had been spying on the Hermitage, and quietly damned Rossky for his handling of the matter. The man should have been watched, not driven to suicide-- if indeed he took his own life. "Brief the Ministry of Security in Moscow," Orlov said. "Tell them I need someone in Helsinki to meet the plane and watch to see if the Americans are planning to cross over."

"Yes, sir," said Zilash.

Orlov thanked him, then went to his office and summoned Rossky and Security Director Glinka to talk about which plan to implement in case they had visitors.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Tuesday, 6:08 A.M., Vladivostok

Lenin once said of Vladivostok, "It's a long way away. But it's ours."